


Head Over Heels

by bizzybee



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Getting Together, Post-Game(s), Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee
Summary: The war has ended and Ingrid has a confession to make.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea
Comments: 8
Kudos: 75





	Head Over Heels

The night the war ends, a celebration breaks out in the dining hall of Garreg Mach. 

Dorothea’s tired of war, she’s tired of parties, and quite frankly, she just wants to sleep, but Ingrid’s by her side and pulls her into dance after dance,staring at Dorothea with the most peculiar of looks. 

Finally, as the night is winding down, Dorothea pulls Ingrid out to the fishing pond dock. 

“What’s up with you tonight?” Dorothea asks. 

Ingrid’s eyes widen. “Um, nothing. What’s up with you?”

“Oh, put a sock in it, Ingrid,” Dorothea says, then softens at the startled look on Ingrid’s face. “Look, my Ingrid, I’m not gonna be mad. Is everything okay?” 

Ingrid’s eyes just widen more. “Um. Everything’s fine.” She clears her throat. “Dorothea.”

“Ingrid.”

“I-” Ingrid clears her throat again. 

“You good there?”

“Sorry. I’m not… good? At stuff like this, I mean.” 

Dorothea gasps. “You’re breaking off our friendship, aren’t you?” She teases. She pokes Ingrid in the side. “You hate me?” She pokes again, heedless to Ingrid laughing as she tries to push her hands away. “You think I’m ugly and a terrible singer and the worst person you’ve ever met?” She pokes her again. 

“Dorothea,” Ingrid says, giggling. “I’m trying to be serious.” 

Dorothea settles her hand on Ingrid’s waist, feather-light. “Sorry, sorry.” She strokes her thumb along Ingrid’s hip. “You can tell me.” 

“I want to kiss you,” Ingrid blurts, cheeks growing rosy. “I like you. A lot. And I want to kiss you.” 

Oh. 

_Oh._

“I’m sorry if that’s weird,” Ingrid says. “I just, um. The war’s over. And I like you.”

A beat.

Dorothea takes a deep breath. “I’m going to kiss you now."

“Please.” 

Dorothea pulls Ingrid towards her by the waist. Ingrid’s hands come up to frame Dorothea’s face as they kiss, and when Dorothea traces Ingrid’s bottom lip with her tongue, Ingrid surges forward. Dorothea leans back, pulling away to laugh. 

“Eager, are we?” 

Ingrid leans in to press a soft kiss to Dorothea’s jaw.

“Ingrid, darling.” Dorothea pulls Ingrid closer. “I was wondering when you’d finally confess.” 

“Shut up,” Ingrid mutters against Dorothea’s cheek. Dorothea throws her head back and laughs, and Ingrid uses it as an opportunity to press kisses to the underside of her jaw, nibbling at her earlobe. 

“Ingrid,” Dorothea says, and Ingrid redoubles her efforts. “Ingrid.” 

Ingrid pulls back. “What?” 

“If you like, we can take this to your room?”

The blush on Ingrid’s face deepens, flooding down past her neck, past her shirt collar. 

“We don’t have to, and there’s no pressure,” Dorothea assures her, rubbing her hands up and down Ingrid’s waist in what she hopes is a comforting gesture. “Just know, if you want to-”

“Your room’s closer,” Ingrid cuts in. 

“Astute as ever, my dear Ingrid.” 

Dorothea wastes no time shutting and locking her door, blasting a fire spell into her hearth as Ingrid lingers by the door. 

“So,” Dorothea says when she’s finished. 

“So.” Ingrid steps closer. 

Dorothea steps closer, too. “You’re good if I kiss you again, right?”

“Yeah- Yes. Yes.” Ingrid nods. 

Dorothea brackets Ingrid against the door, kissing her again as she hitches one of Ingrid’s legs up, tickling her thigh until Ingrid’s squirming then stopping. Ingrid kisses like she fights - confidently, but with a hint of desperation, like she knows that retreating will mean a lost cause.

Dorothea gives, and takes, and nips at Ingrid's lip between kisses. She presses closer, locking one of Ingrid's legs between her own.

Ingrid pulls back, and Dorothea's about to press closer when she sees the tears in her eyes. 

"Why, darling, what's the matter?" Dorothea swipes the corner of her eye with her thumb. 

"Nothing, it's just," Ingrid huffs out a breath. "I wasn't supposed to get all emotional. I'm sorry."

"I kinda like it when you get emotional like that," Dorothea teases. "Makes me feel like I'm seeing the real Ingrid."

"I guess I just imagined it going differently." Ingrid leans her head on Dorothea's shoulder, holding her against her in an embrace. 

"Oh?" Dorothea nudges her until Ingrid lifts her head. "And how did you imagine it?"

“Don’t make fun of me,” Ingrid pleads, and Dorothea's always loved that blush on her face, but she loves it more when Ingrid's pressed up against her like this.

“But it’s so fun,” Dorothea whines, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose. “Now tell me, Ingrid. How did you imagine it?”

Ingrid looks up at her again, and Dorothea shivers at the look in her eyes before Ingrid leans forward and captures her in another kiss. Dorothea goes willingly, disregarding her earlier teases and pulling Ingrid’s bottom lip into her mouth, biting down before running over it with her tongue.

The groan Ingrid releases shudders through her, and Dorothea almost moans just from that. Instead, she hitches her hands under Ingrid’s ass, pulling her flush against her and thrusting her hips into Ingrid's. 

“How did you imagine it, hm?” Dorothea pulls away, trailing kisses across Ingrid’s jaw and down her neck. “Did I kiss you like this?” 

Ingrid throws her head back as Dorothea traces her tongue along her collarbone, moaning a “Goddess,” towards the ceiling that makes Dorothea chuckle. 

Dorothea moves her focus to the hollow of Ingrid’s neck, biting down and tracing over the mark with a gentle tongue, pressing open mouthed kisses over and across before reaching Ingrid’s mouth again. 

Ingrid doesn’t seem to know where to put her hands, and it’s sweet, Dorothea thinks as Ingrid resorts to rubbing them up and down Dorothea’s side, trying her best to grind their hips together in search of friction as they kiss. 

“Ingrid,” Dorothea says between kisses, and when Ingrid hums in affirmation, she pulls back. “Ingrid.”

“What?” Ingrid’s breathless, hair frizzing already, and Dorothea wants to wrap her hands in it. 

“You know, there’s a bed right over there.” Dorothea raises an eyebrow. “We could-”

Ingrid’s off her lap in an instant, holding a hand out to Dorothea so she can stand. “Yes. Goddess, yes.” 

Dorothea laughs, standing and giving her a peck on the lips. “Then, come on.” 

She pulls Ingrid down on top of her, then reaches up to start unlacing her dress, nimble fingers halfway down her chest before she notices Ingrid’s look. “You okay?” Dorothea checks. “We don’t have to do anything other than kiss, and not even that, if you don’t want to.” She sits up, leaning back against the headboard. 

“No,” Ingrid says, and Dorothea starts relacing her dress, an apology on her lips, until Ingrid reaches out, covering her hands with her own. “No, sorry, I mean, I’m okay. Just, wow. I’ve been thinking about this forever. I- I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, Dorothea.” 

And Dorothea feels that familiar pit of warmth start to grow right when Ingrid gently takes Dorothea’s hands in hers, pressing a kiss to each palm before setting them in Dorothea’s lap. Ingrid returns her own hands to the front of Dorothea’s dress. Her hands are shaking, but don’t stop as they undo the fastenings, and knots, and ties. 

“How complicated is this thing?” Ingrid breathes with a nervous laugh as she tries to pick apart particularly complicated lacing. 

“Here,” Dorothea says, smiling. “Let me.” She takes over, deftly undoing each lace until she reaches her navel. She lays back to let Ingrid finish, and she does, pushing the fabric aside to reveal Dorothea’s brassiere. 

Dorothea shifts, lifting her hips to slide her dress off and onto the floor. She moves her hands to the laces of her brassiere. “This okay?” 

When Ingrid nods, Dorothea makes quick work of those laces, raising her eyebrows at Ingrid for a final nod before removing her brassiere. 

It’s been a long time since Dorothea’s been shy of her body, but the earnest, honest, and downright reverent look on Ingrid’s face when she sits topless before her almost makes her blush. 

“Come here,” Dorothea invites, and pulls Ingrid towards her again, sliding into a lying position as she brings their lips together. She brushes a hand across the front of Ingrid’s tunic, and when Ingrid nods above her, pressing a bruising kiss to Dorothea’s lips, she starts on the buttons, pushing the shirt down Ingrid’s shoulders. 

Ingrid sits back for a moment, shaking her arms out of her shirt and reaching up to undo the binding around her chest. 

Dorothea’s had sex. She's had sex with women and sex with men - it’s war, after all, and there’s any number of soldiers who need to let out their energy. But no instance has ever made her feel quite as happy as the view of Ingrid topless above her, her pink blush blooming all the way down to her chest as she watches Dorothea look. 

“You’re so handsome,” Dorothea says, and leans in to press a kiss to Ingrid’s shoulder. “So gorgeous,” to the mark on Ingrid’s neck she made earlier, “so earth-shatteringly astonishing.” 

She’s leaning in for a full kiss when Ingrid leans back, a hand on Dorothea’s cheek. “Wait.” Dorothea pulls back immediately, gazing at Ingrid while fretting her lip between her teeth. “Can I, um,” she trails off. 

“Can you what?” Dorothea teases, as if she can’t see Ingrid blatantly staring down. 

Ingrid’s blush deepens. “Ugh, never mind.” 

“No, come on.” Dorothea trails her fingers up and down Ingrid’s side until she’s squirming above her. “What is it, darling Ingrid?”

“I want to,” Ingrid giggles. “Goddess, stop tickling me.” She brings a hand up to cover her eyes in embarrassment. “I want to touch you, okay?” 

Dorothea laughs, stilling her hands and holding Ingrid’s waist steady above her. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Okay, Ingrid. I’m yours.” 

Ingrid swallows. Biting her lip, she raises one hand, ghosting over the ridge of Dorothea’s breast. 

Dorothea sighs contentedly, leaning her head back to provide Ingrid better access. “You can touch me more, if you want,” she encourages, smiling up at her. 

Ingrid ghosts over her again, this time lowering a thumb to just brush over one of Dorothea’s nipples. Dorothea’s breath hitches. 

"Is this… okay?" Ingrid asks. 

"More," Dorothea breathes. "You can do more." 

Ingrid bites her lip, determined. She leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of Dorothea's jaw as her hand lowers again, this time cupping her breast and pressing her thumb more firmly into Dorothea's nipple, rolling it in a small circle. 

Dorothea bucks her hips, her groin meeting Ingrid's upper thigh. "Flames, Ingrid." 

Emboldened, Ingrid moves, kissing a bath down Dorothea's neck, across her collarbone, down her sternum. She pauses, closing her eyes, and Dorotheas skin cools where Ingrid's breath meets it. 

When Ingrid takes that same nipple in her mouth, Dorothea clutches the sheets beneath her, thrusting her hips up and relishing in the moan that pulls from Ingrid. Ingrid continues to mouth at her breasts, nipping and sucking, not focusing on any area long enough for Dorothea to find relief. 

"Ingrid," Dorothea says. Ingrid traces her tongue down the flat of Dorothea's sternum. "Ingrid." Dorothea pulls her off gently by her hair. 

"What?" Ingrid says. "I'm busy." 

Dorothea laughs, running her hand through Ingrid's hair. "I can see that."

Ingrid presses a kiss to Dorothea's stomach. "What is it?" 

Dorothea reaches down, trailing a finger underneath Ingrid's jodhpur's waistband. "Can I go down on you?" 

"'C-can you,'" Ingrid sputters, face red. "Yeah, I mean, yes. Please, Dorothea." 

"Then come here." Dorothea pulls her up into a kiss, gently turning Ingrid on her back with a hand on her hip. She leans down, pressing gentle kisses to Ingrid's collarbone, down her chest, her navel. 

"This okay?" Dorothea checks, hands hovering over the laces of Ingrid's jodhpurs. 

Ingrid swallows, nodding. 

Dorothea makes quick work of the ties, pulling Ingrid's trousers and smalls down in the same motion. Ingrid raises her hips to help, hiding her face with an embarrassed laugh when Dorothea has to pause to undo Ingrid's boots. 

"Sorry," Ingrid laughs. "I should've thought to change."

Dorothea presses a brief kiss to Ingrid's knee. "You're fine." She tosses Ingrid's boots and socks to the ground beside them, her jodhpurs and smalls following soon after. She rubs small circles on the hollows beneath Ingrid's hips. "Still good?" 

"Hurry up," Ingrid grits between her teeth. 

Dorothea giggles. "Yes, _ma'am_." She kisses Ingrid’s navel, mouth following the trail of soft blonde hair down, down, down. 

She gives Ingrid’s clit an open-mouthed kiss and Ingrid’s hips buck up towards her face. 

“Feels good, huh?” Dorothea says, not lifting her face from Ingrid’s mons. 

“Fuck.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Dorothea dives back in, separating Ingrid’s labia with her tongue and sweeping a broad lick through her folds. She flicks her tongue along Ingrid’s clit, relishing in how her hips jerk and lurch with each movement. Dorothea holds her open and steady, hands on her thighs. 

Ingrid dissolves quickly under Dorothea’s care, and soon enough she’s clutching the sheets, squirming under the weight of Dorothea’s tongue and lips bearing down on her. They can work on her stamina later, Dorothea decides. They have the time. So she doubles down, using one hand to continue digging into Ingrid’s thigh in a way that’s sure to leave marks and the other to slip two fingers inside her, focusing her mouth on flicking at and sucking Ingrid’s clit. 

Ingrid babbles beneath her, a combination of Dorothea’s name, moans, and curses to the heavens. When Dorothea crooks her fingers inside of her and gives her clit a hard suck, nipping at it lightly, Ingrid cums with a whine, riding out her orgasm on Dorothea’s fingers. Dorothea fucks her through it, scissoring her fingers inside of her and pressing broad, flat licks to Ingrid’s clit until Ingrid’s breathing slows and her grip on the sheets loosens. 

“Dorothea,” Ingrid sighs. Dorothea lifts her head. “Dorothea,” Ingrid repeats. “Dot. Goddess, I’ve missed you.” 

Dorothea wipes her mouth with the corner of her sheet. “Missed my mouth, more like.” 

Ingrid snorts, and Dorothea shifts, laying beside her and pulling Ingrid against her chest, wrapping her arms around her waist. 

Ingrid turns to face her, stroking Dorothea’s face with one hand. “That was- Thank you.” 

Dorothea laughs, and Ingrid buries her head into Dorothea’s shoulder. “Thank you? Oh, you’re cute.” 

“Stop it,” Ingrid whines. Dorothea kisses the top of her head. 

They lay here, Dorothea holding Ingrid with her head tucked against her chest. 

“You okay?” Dorothea says after a moment, stroking Ingrid’s hair with one hand. 

“I’m fine,” Ingrid says. Dorothea shifts so she can look her in the eye. “No, Dorothea, I’m great. Sorry. I think you just fried my brain a little there.”

Dorothea brings her in for another kiss, soft and sweet. “Good.”

“Um,” Ingrid says, flushing. “Do you…?”

“Do I what?” Dorothea smiles playfully. 

Ingrid swallows. “Can I, um, return the favor?” She starts to cringe at her own words, but Dorothea cuts her off with a kiss. 

“Of course you may,” Dorothea says. She kisses the ridge of Ingrid’s shoulder. “I’m yours, darling.”

Ingrid nods, determined. “Um, I haven’t really-”

“Hey.” Dorothea takes her hand in hers, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “It’s okay. So long as it’s you.”

Ingrid kisses her, and Dorothea shudders when she feels Ingrid's hand snaking across her stomach. She hums her approval and spreads her legs as Ingrid rubs one finger against her clit and then past her entrance. 

She waits a beat. 

"Ingrid," Dorothea murmurs against her lips. She pulls back a bit, leaning her head against the pillow. "You know you gotta move, right?"

"Oh!" Ingrid buries her face in her other hand. "Goddess. Sorry." 

"Hey, it's okay," Dorothea gently pries Ingrid's hand off her face, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Come here." She pulls Ingrid down, pressing an uncoordinated kiss to the shell of her ear. 

Their kisses are slower now, more languid, and Dorothea smiles, breath hitching against Ingrid's as she slowly thrusts her finger in and out. 

"You can do more," Dorothea says, and moans when Ingrid slides in another finger. 

The look on Ingrid's face is one of hunger, and she leans forward, pressing kisses to Dorothea's neck as she slowly thrusts her fingers against Dorothea's entrance, the heel of her hand brushing against Dorothea's clit as she does so. 

"More," Dorothea encourages, and Ingrid's kisses grow firmer, her thrusting increasing in pace. It's certainly not the best she's ever received, but she can tell that Ingrid's trying, and that plus Ingrid's mouth on her neck, plus Ingrid's breasts pressed against hers is enough. 

She comes with a gasp, and Ingrid bites down on her shoulder, digging a mark in until Dorothea pulls her off. Ingrid falls on the pillow next to Dorothea, wiping her hand on the sheets. 

"Thank you," Dorothea says, grinning. Ingrid swats her. "No, sorry." Dorothea pulls her closer, wrapping an arm around Ingrid's shoulders. "Come here." 

Ingrid comes willingly, curling up against Dorothea's side with a happy sigh that Dorothea vows to commit to memory. 

"That was… nice," Ingrid says, face pressed into Dorothea's shoulder. 

"Yeah? I agree." Dorothea kisses her forehead. "I like you, you know." 

"I like you, too." 

"Stay with me tonight?" Dorothea traces small circles against Ingrid's shoulder. 

"Wasn't planning on getting up." 

Dorothea laughs, then pauses, sobering. "Things are gonna change tomorrow." 

"Yeah."

Dorothea rests her head back. 

"I'll stay by you, though," Ingrid says. "If you want to stay by me." 

The hand at Ingrid's shoulder stills. "I do." 

"Really?" 

"I do," Dorothea says again. "Let's stick together, yeah?" 

Dorothea can feel Ingrid's smile against her skin. "Okay." 

"Okay." 

And with a war behind her and an uncertain future ahead, the solace of Ingrid's warmth beside her, steady as the tide, brings a certain weight to Dorothea's heart. Not a bad weight, certainly, but a reassuring one. One that whispers that for now, and maybe tomorrow, too, there is peace. 


End file.
